


Drabble: Tim and Drug

by Hasegawa



Series: The Angst of Timothy Drake [3]
Category: DCU
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, unhealthy coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 02:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20202304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hasegawa/pseuds/Hasegawa
Summary: The stages of Drugs Abuse of Timothy Drake-Wayne.





	Drabble: Tim and Drug

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stay Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18923893) by [Crypterion_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypterion_Moon/pseuds/Crypterion_Moon). 

It started out of accident (just like he was –his parents never planned him).

When he was chasing the drug mobs; they threw the white dust at him and Tim didn’t manage to cover his face in time. He inhaled a small part of the white dust before covering his nose and mouth. But the particles were there already—and as it was quite potent.

Tim ignored the tingling sensation from his nostrils and went to chase the bad guys anyway.

In the morning, he realised he woke up on his bed, feeling super refreshed and relaxed like never before. For so long he had insomnia, inability to relax and he could only sleep for at most 3 hours before getting nightmares or woke up feeling like he was failing behind. But that morning, he was very refreshed and calm. Nice. Serene.

What a breath of fresh air.

* * *

The next time he encountered the drug, he was analysing it for the Bats. As usual, it was only work, work and work from Batman; Tim hadn’t got any personal call from Batman for half a year already. It was always emails about cases or business schedules or contracts. They didn’t even meet in WE; as Bruce let everything fell on Tim.

It was unfair, if Tim was truthful to himself. He didn’t like how Bruce focused only on Jason and Damian. It was always “Jason come home” or “Damian be my Robin”. It was always “Tim analyse this, do that, be my slave”. Sometimes, if Tim was honest; he didn’t feel like he was family anymore. Only Alfred still calls him from time to time and cooked for him sometimes. Dick didn’t have time for Tim now that he has Baby Murder and boyfriend The Flash. Cass was always in Hong Kong.

Well, Tim wondered. Does he still have any place within the family? Or maybe, the real question was… how long can Tim keep up trying to be a part of the family?

Then he accidentally dropped the packet onto his desk, and inhaled it again.

The next morning, he felt so relaxed he decided to skip work altogether without guilt and went back for a well deserve sleep.

* * *

It became a habit of sort. When he felt his mind wondered to the dangerous territory (angsty Tim, hurr hurr hurr), he just reached for the samples he has.

* * *

It worked for the first few weeks. Tim felt so much better afterwards. Then he developed resistance to the drug. He no longer felt that good the next morning unless he took bigger dose. It triggers something in his mind, but Tim… at this point, he didn’t really care. He was just chasing the feels good feeling he has from ignoring the depression. He started to search for the drug, posing as chasing for the gangs; but slowly taking some for himself.

One time, he even posed as a buyer (in the name of getting samples and tracking the dealers) but in reality he kept the drugs he bought and used it once he was save inside his safe house.

Then he began to be more sluggish, sloppier than the usual Tim. He no longer cared so much about details or plans. He prefers to think on his feet when faced with problems. He no longer feels the need to analyse. Jason and Damian never analyse much; they don’t even think about stuff. They came in barging with guns (and katana) blazing.

Why can’t Tim? (Isn’t that what Bruce wants?)

He no longer cared if he hurt someone or making the wrong move. One time, he pulls the bomb trigger by accident. He got an earful on his earpiece after that, but Tim simply plucked it away from his ear and put it on the concrete while he watched the moon. The moon was very pretty and the fire from explosion made it look like bonfire. Pretty.

The first one to notice was, unsurprisingly, Alfred. Tim suddenly realised Alfred was waking him up. Apparently Tim too high of a dose and fell asleep on the bathroom tile. Alfred bundled him up and thought Tim was just too tired with so many things to do. Alfred didn’t know how Tim already missed several deadlines, ignoring his ever growing inboxes and went to search for drugs instead.

“You are too thin, Master Tim. Please take care of yourself more.”

“Will do, Alf. Thank you for the concern.”

But Tim has became dependent on the drug to continue feeling good. When he tried stopping one time, thinking maybe it’s time to stop using the drug, he woke up nauseated, feeling antsy the whole day and the meeting he was supposed to present on was botched beyond salvation. The other directors rejected his proposal (even though it was what they needed now!) and the reputation Tim has been building until recently (with his blood and secret tears) crumbled. He went home and took double dose that night.

Ah, life.

* * *

The next one who noticed were Bart and Kon. They saw him biting his nails until it was bleeding. Tim didn’t have nails. He only had short nails beforehand, but after using drugs, nail biting became a fun activity. It feels good ripping the last of his own nails and see the blood but feels nothing. Usually he wore gloves while being vigilante and being CEO (something he used only recently), so no one notices how weird his nail-less fingers are. 

They were horrified and asked Tim to stop. Tim laughed at them and waved them away. He decided not to return to the Titan Tower now or until he laid off the drugs, lest they want to dig deeper and found Tim’s bad habit. He cited “Bat’s duty” and rejected any request to stay in the tower for the next few weeks.

He felt lonely. The Titans were the only people who still cares about him. But he’d rather they not knowing his drug habit. They won’t approve of it. The thing is, Tim knew it’s bad. But he needs it to keep living. Otherwise, he had nothing to look forward to.

* * *

The drugs were gone. Batman and the teams felt Tim’s working too slow and took the matter into their own hand. It was easy to bust the den and confiscated the drugs. Tim came too late and they had already submitted the drugs to the Police. Some of it were analysed by Oracle. And Tim knew she would find it nothing outside normal cocaine. Yes, they called it something fancy but inside it was the old-time cocaine. Tim pretended to analyse it so long, preferring them not meddling with his supply.

But Batman took it all, and with that, Tim felt hopeless. He almost cried on the spot.

It shows how much Batman didn’t care about him –no, Bruce wasn’t even his father. Bruce has stopped pretending to be his father. Bruce Wayne was his boss, a cold taskmaster one at that. Batman wasn’t his partner, they just want to see Tim burn.

And throughout the months he used the drugs, no one from the Bat family asked him how he was doing.

It was the last straw.

When he reached his lair, Tim took the remaining dose he had (about one week’s worth) and snuffed it all.

* * *

What’s the point of keep living, anyway?

* * *

He woke up. Tim woke up. He didn’t want to. But he woke up.

“Why, Timmy?” Dick was the first one who called him. Oh, he was somewhere in the manor.

Tim didn’t want to wake up. He turned to see Batman standing beside him, in uniform, with no mask on. His face was stern. Disappointed. Yeah, of course. His soldier fucks up.

“Because it feels good…?” Tim tries to explain, but even on his ears, it sounded weak and strange.

Suddenly he felt pain on his cheek. He blinked and realised Bruce just slapped him.

“B!” Dick shouted and slipped in between bed-ridden Timmy and Bruce. “What the hell!?”

“I’ve trained you better than this, Tim.” He growled.

“… Yeah, you did.” Tim shrugged. He felt tears pooling on his eyes. His parents never hit him. It was the first time a hit came from someone he considers as family… oh wait, Jason and Damian hit him a lot. It’s not the first time, then. … Are they family? Is Bruce still ‘family’?

“Then why?”

“… I don’t have anything to live for anymore.” Tim answered truthfully. His fingers were encased in bandages. Oh, he couldn’t bite his nails now.

“Oh Tim, it’s not… why didn’t you say anything?”

“…No one calls. No one cares. It’s been almost 8 months. No one knows.” Tim felt small and anxious and angry. He didn’t want to share, but he didn’t want to not share either. What the hell. “why now?”

“I taught you better than this, Tim. You are supposed to be smarter than this. Using a drug…”

“WHAT? SO I AM NOT SMART? BECAUSE I USE DRUGS TO KEEP PLEASING YOU? BECAUSE DRUGS HELP ME TO SLEEP AND COPE? “ Tim screamed till he was hoarse.

“There’s no logic where using drugs is to please me, son.” Bruce looked grim.

“Yeah? Check it, your emails, your messages. Are there anything there to say you are still my father? You are nothing but a cruel boss!” Tim sobbed. “When was the last time you called? When was the last time you want me to attend family dinner? WHEN? WHAT AM I TO YOU? I AM JUST YOUR FUCKING SOLDIER!” Tim screamed. “FUCK YOU!”

“TIM!” Dick growled and sat beside him, restricting Tim’s hands. Tim realised he was scratching his face. It felt itchy and hot and bloated. Like something was crawling underneath it.

“Why won’t you let me die?” Tim shrieked and started to sob. “Then… Then maybe you will… you will start to love me.”

Ah, pathetic. Tim sobbed into his arms. They were covered in his old pyjamas. He missed it. He felt Dick’s arms around him, hugging tight. It felt uncomfortable. He wants the drug.

He didn’t want to be there. He wants the drug. He wants his father. “Father… please father…”

“Sssh, Timmy, we are here. Bruce and I are here…”

“No, I want Jack… my father never hits me. My family will never hit me. They leave me alone but they keep me alive…” Tim sobbed. “I want father.”

Dick muttered on his hair, “Tim, I am so sorry. I am so sorry…”

“I want the drug, Dick. It made me calm. It makes me feel good. I want to feel good. I don’t want to feel not good.” Tim pleaded. “Please.”

“No, Timmy. You need to get better. You need to stop using them.”

“But it let me sleep better…”

“We… I will make you sleep better. I’ll be here.”

“No, you can’t give me peace. You don’t have time for me. Damian is waiting for you.”

“Oh Timmy…”

“I want my parents. I want the drug. I want …” Tim stopped. Oh. Yes. He just got the epiphany. “I feel better if I die.”

Tim felt his body was calm and relaxed afterward. What a rush. Yes, his brain was so happy to realise that everything will end, only if he died. Yes. Dying sounds better and calming now.

And with that, Tim closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> the ending is open, can be interpreted anywhere :) 
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
